Silly Twists
by restive nature
Summary: Stories, not holiday related, for the TtH Ficforall. Multiple crossovers, numerous pairings. Fun for all!
1. Call Me

Title: Call Me

Author: Restive Nature (aka bavite)

Rating: PG-13 (just for rude and/ or dirty words)

Disclaimer: I do not own either of BtVS, which belongs to Whedon and Mutant Enemy, or X-men, which belongs to Stan Lee and Marvel comics, I believe. The characters and settings in this fiction are used for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made from the fiction.

Timeline: The timing in Buffy is vague. It's after Spike was with Harmony, but before he really got into the Scooby gang. So season 4 somewhere, I'd guess. And for X-men, this is between the movies. Mystique is healing from the wounds Wolverine inflicted on her and is searching for a way to free Magneto from prison.

Summary: He's known a lot of women in his time and has had a name for them all.

A/N- This is written for Twisting the Hellmouth's Fic-for-all. Pairing #912 Spike/ Mystique.

Call Me…

"I don't know why you're bothering luv," the slightly tipsy British voice chuckled. Mystique sighed as she glanced down at her body. Normally, blue scaled skin would have greeted her eyes. But in an effort to hide, she'd been staying "in character" as it were, for longer periods of time. And the blonde form she'd assumed, after seeing the young lady she was doubling in the park, seemed to hold special significance to the cocky British punk here with her now.

"What do you mean?" she questioned softly. She really didn't have any clue as to how his mind worked. And she had always figured herself to have a good handle on how people thought. It was simple. Fear ruled everything. Most especially, fear of her, and her kind. "And don't call me luv," she tacked on, slightly perturbed. But the bleached blonde Brit just laughed again.

"The scent," he offered, gesturing towards her. "You'll never get that bint right. Trust me, I know."

Mystiques eyes widened, for two reasons. One, that she'd run into yet another freak that could identify her by smell alone. First there'd been that great brute that had followed Magneto everywhere, Sabretooth. And his former brother in arms, the Wolverine. And now this one. She wondered what his mutant ability was. And two, for the fact that she had noticed the way his body had reacted when she put on this disguise. Whoever the "bint" was, the Brit obviously had some sort of feelings for her.

"And what would you suggest I do, then?" she asked acerbically. Granted, the Brit had seen her in her natural form, when she'd been fighting off those creatures that had attacked her in the dead of night in the forest. As naturally agile, flexible and strong as she was, her injury was enough that she couldn't hold them all back. But then the Brit had arrived and ordered them off. And the twits had obeyed. It had occurred to her that someone with a little power around here was a good ally to have at the moment. At least while she was recuperating.

"Go au natural," he shrugged. "Hellmouth knows, I won't mind."

That was an odd choice of words that Mystique shrugged off. With ease, the blonde's green eyed face quickly reverted back to blue. She wasn't surprised to see the hint of relief on the man's face. Actually, it felt nice to find someone else that she could be herself with.

"So if I can't call you luv, what do I call ya then?" he demanded.

"How about by my name?" she retorted dryly.

"Which would be?"

"Mystique," she supplied with a purr. His eyebrows shot up and he began to laugh all over again. "What?" she demanded irritably. "I suppose you've something better in mind?"

"Luv," he began when he calmed down. "You need a name as bold and as striking as you are, pet."

"Like what?" she demanded softly, though she was starting to get a little testy.

"Mmm," he thought for a moment, his hand absently reaching for the bottle of whiskey on the table nearby. He took a swig and squinted up at her. "You could be my Blue Angel…" Mystique scoffed at that. "Of death," he finished. She couldn't help herself; an amused giggle escaped her lips. "What?" he demanded.

"B-blue angel?" she laughed helplessly.

He shrugged. "Why not?" he sighed. "I've had a Black Goddess, a blonde bimbo and a brassed off Slayer in my life. Why not a Blue Angel?"

"Of death," she reminded him.

"Exactly!" he crowed. Mystique smiled. Something about this stranger was incredibly fun. Maybe she could relax and let her hair down, so to speak while she was here. And as if he were reading her mind, he perked up a bit to say, "say, you wouldn't be up for some havoc wreaking now, would you?"

"Oh, normally havoc and I go along together quite well," she shrugged. "But shouldn't I be laying low?"

The blonde regarded her intently for a moment, and then seemed to understand. He shook his head. "Nah, you'd be business as usual on the hellmouth."

Mystique was taken aback again. She could go out in public and her appearance would be considered normal? What kind of mutant utopia was she in?

"Just a word o' warnin', though," the Brit broke in again. "Don't go near the bint you were just wearing. She'd kill ya in a heartbeat."

Okay, utopia had some drawbacks. But… "You know her scent though, right? I'm sure she'd be easy enough to avoid."

He perked up again. "Yeah," he breathed. "We could have us a time, my mysterious blue angel."

"Of death," she chuckled again. The Brit joined in and stumbled to his feet. He held out an arm to her.

"Let the havoc wreaking begin," he yelled out. He began to drag her towards the opening of the crypt he'd brought her to. The night air was fresh and cooling against her skin. Mystique followed after him willingly, but she still had one thought on her mind.

"So what do I call you?"

"Spike, luv," he answered with glee. "You can call me Spike."


	2. Game Night

Title: Game Night

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rating: PG (for mature seeming themes)

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Angel the Series or Smallville. They belong to others.

Genre: Crossover of Angel The Series and of Smallville

Type: Stand Alone

Timeline/ Spoilers: Season two of Angel. Just general for Smallville.

Summary: Lex has a small secret, but he's not the only one.

A/N: This is for the TtH Fic-for All. Pairing # 876 David Nabitt/ Lex Luthor

Lex Luthor smiled as he took in the room at large. Exquisitely decorated, tasteful and upscale, it was what one would expect of his good friend, David Nabitt. And yet, Lex knew that none of the public world at large knew the real Nabitt. Of course everyone would assume and be correct in that assumption that a decorator had stepped in and arranged this room, even the entire mansion in a manner supposedly befitting a multi-billionaire. But David could care less about his surroundings. At least for the most part.

But Lex hadn't come tonight to mull over the decoration of his friend's domicile. No, he'd come for a much more important reason. Not even a reason, he supposed. It was more like an addiction. A craving that got the better of him at odd times. An addiction that shrouded his keen mind with its seductive lure of promised adventure and thrills.

Yes. None of his friends back in Smallville knew it, but Lex was hopelessly hooked. Even going so far as to fly around the country just to get his fix. Heeding the call any time, day or night. And David Nabitt, billionaire, humanitarian, all around eccentric, was his biggest supplier. And looking at the ecstatic visage of his friend as he conversed with another regular junkie of the whatever-illionaire club, Lex knew that he'd die before he ever let this secret get out.

Jerking his eyes away from the duo, he set about picking up the necessary tools of his addiction. Bits of paper were scattered about the coffee table at which he'd been seated at before. The slick surface of the marble item was cool beneath his hands. Not much caring for the items, now that playtime was over, Lex simply swept them into the velvet bag he set aside for the exact purpose of hiding his tools away. He pulled the drawstring tight on the royal purple bag, until the gold woven thread began to cut into his hand. Passing a hand wearily over his eyes, he then checked his gold wristwatch. It was nearing six o'clock in the morning. Lex was glad that he'd already called his pilot and chauffeur. One would be picking him up in moments, while the other would be preparing his jet for the flight back to Smallville. And he was so tired at this point, that he didn't care which was doing which.

And finally, it was his turn to make his goodbyes. Carrying his velvet bag in one hand, his fall coat slung over the other arm, he headed towards the exit, where David was waiting.

"So did you enjoy yourself tonight Lex?" David asked solicitously. Lex was surprised that he was able to keep the usual hint of boyish enthusiasm out of his voice. In fact, he sounded a little gravelly. But Lex supposed anyone would after talking almost nonstop for the last ten hours, which David had.

"As always Nabitt," Lex agreed mildly, though his grin was huge. It was the truth. He always enjoyed these nights.

"Did Mal mention to you that we're meeting at his place in Rome next month?" David mentioned suddenly. Lex nodded.

"He said something about it, but he hadn't made a specific date," Lex admitted. It was David's turn to nod. Lex gestured with his coat laden arm at the item in David's free hand, taking in the habitually worn purple cape. "But that should give you enough time to figure out how to get your toys through customs."

"Are you kidding?" David laughed, his eyes lighting up. "One should always be prepared. I've had a permit for this baby ever since I bought it." He held up the sword and rattled it in a mock threatening manner. Lex held up his hands, surrendering.

"All right, all right," he warned softly. "I should have known."

David dropped the sword to his side and gestured with his head towards the front door. They walked companionably for a moment. "Oh," David spoke up suddenly, causing the tired Lex to jump slightly. "Did I tell you how impressed I was at how you dealt with the Tremeraine beast I came up with?" Lex ducked his head, an embarrassed flush creeping into his cheeks.

"No man," he smiled. "I was just glad to get us out of that one alive. And speaking of beasts, where on earth did you come up with those Skilosh demons? They're not in any of the books?"

David regarded his friend, his eyes flashing with amusement as he bit his lip. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Lex regarded Nabitt a moment. Their nights were always thus. They were the best at what they did. All their friends admitted it. "You're right," he agreed at last with a chuckle. "I probably wouldn't. But that's always why I said you're the best Dungeon Master ever. You've got all the imagination."

David was saved from replying by the appearance of Lex's chauffeur. He followed the black liveried employee down to the car and with a final wave, left for home.

David Nabitt stood in his doorway, musing on what his friend had just said. "Imagination?" he mused aloud. "Oh Lex, if you only knew."


	3. Winning

Title: Winning

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rating: PG-13 (some mild attraction)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned from BtVS. Those babies belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Nor do I own any of the characters or settings from the X-men. They belong to Stan Lee and Marvel Comics.

Timeline: For BtVS, it's seventh season. Anya has returned to the demon fold after the almost marriage with Xander. For X-men, it's after the second movie and Jean Grey is dead.

Pairing: Anya/ Wolverine for TtH's Fic-For-All Pairing #806

Summary: It doesn't matter how you play the game… because somebody is always changing the rules!

Winning

"Yes!" the girl's slightly excited voice rang out, causing Logan, a mutant also known by the code name Wolverine, to wince. "Payday!" she sang out happily. Her gamine little face turned up to his and she held out her hand expectantly. Logan dutifully checked the square on which she had landed and then counted out the play money before him. How the hell had he been roped into this damn game?

"Oh no," came another voice and Logan's eyes darted to the giggling Jubilation Lee. "Here comes the capital dance of whatever the hell!" And sure enough, little Anya, the latest mutant to come into the fold had jumped to her feet, her hips swinging wildly, her head bobbing back and forth as she counted her pink and blue and green money, almost as if it were real.

Logan couldn't help chuckling. As irked as he might be at having to baby-sit the kids in the recreation room that night, it had its compensations, such as like right now. Ever since Anya had arrived at the school, he'd been reluctantly charmed by her blunt outspokenness and sparkling, vivacious eyes. There were times that she'd eyed him a little too closely, but he was getting used to that. It wasn't like the other students of the female persuasion hadn't developed crushes on him.

Rolling his eyes as Anya's dance became a little more exuberant; he turned his head to see the last little member of their group. Rogue. And remembered exactly why he'd let himself be conned into playing the game of Life. She'd been moping in front of the television, her eyes on the schmuck who was supposed to have been her boyfriend, now snuggling up with another recent turn-up of the Professor's.

Logan had had to control himself, for her sake only when he and Rogue had discovered Bobby tucked away with that young lady, in a not so delicate situation, a few days ago. His first instinct had been to rip the kid to shreds. But the trembling lip of Rogue and her sudden flight had compelled him to follow, though not before casting Bobby with the deadliest glare he could muster. The kid had gulped. He knew that at some point he was in for it. Only the professor's interference had saved his life.

And worse of all was Rogue's stoic acceptance of it. Her damned mutation or being unable to touch another living human without causing them severe physical damage had led her to believe that this sort of thing was inevitable. She'd known that it would be too difficult to maintain a relationship in which the participants couldn't even touch skin to skin. But the longer Bobby had held on to the illusion, the more she'd begun to hope against hope.

And so tonight, even though she'd protested, Jubilee and Anya had had their way. Pulling Rogue from the television and encouraging her to get back into the teen swing of things. And Logan, noting that there was just a hint of smile on the redhead's face as she watched Anya skipping around their little group, felt that he could put up with the discomfort Anya brought. Truly, some of the outspoken, blunt garbage that flew from the blonde's lips astounded them all into laughter, Rogue included. And to Logan, that was a good thing. Finally, after a few more minutes, Anya settled herself back down to her cross legged seat. She stowed her money under her section of the board and waited expectantly for Jubilee to take her turn.

But unbeknownst to the occupants of Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Children, also known by the students as Mutant High, there was more to Anya Jenkins that they had ever assumed. For even while she danced, pranced and shocked with her verbal outpourings, she was there for a purpose. After her not a wedding to Xander Harris, she'd returned to the demon fold that for so long had been her life. Vengeance with a vengeance. That was her motto nowadays.

And if ever there was vengeance needed, it was for Rogue. Of course, Anya ignored the fact that this really was more of her best friend, Hallie's domain. The demoness Halfrek had a special affinity for children in pain. Just as she ignored the fact that Hallie had kind of slid this one her way. Since there was a young man involved, which was Anya's domain, Hallie was able to fudge things a little. She was helping Anya, who'd been out of the game for several years, to ease back in. And as Anya thought about this, her mind began to scheme as to how to get Rogue to admit her deepest darkest desires when it came to punishing her two-timing boyfriend. Perhaps Anya could even give her some suggestions of what she would have liked to do to Xander.

"Wow," Rogue whispered to Jubilee under her breath. Both girls were watching the intensity on Anya's face as she stared at Logan. Neither realized that Anya was actually lost in her own thoughts.

"Yeah," Jubilee whispered back, careful not to garner Logan's attention. The odd man out was rearranging the money while Jubilee made the pretense of taking her turn spinning the dial. As the little clicker spun around, Rogue used the noise to cover her next words, knowing just how well the Wolverine's hearing was.

"You know, I really wish that Logan could settle down and be happy with someone," she began, then glanced at the newest blonde addition. "Like Anya. They just seem so…"

Jubilee giggled. She knew exactly what Rogue meant. There was just something so unpredictable about both Logan and Anya. Not that they were in any way alike. They just seemed to be so odd that they went together. "Yeah," she agreed. "I know."

Both Anya and Logan's heads snapped up at the same time, thought for different reasons. Logan glanced warily at Anya, wondering if she'd overheard what he just had. She was staring at Rogue just as intently as she'd been staring at him a moment ago. What the hell was she thinking?

Anya found that while she'd been musing the prime moment over, her chance had come and almost gone. She'd heard the special words uttered from Rogue's mouth. And as tradition and her job dictated so she… "Wish granted!" she thundered.

Every single occupant in the room, though mutants every one of them, were stunned when Anya Jenkins, teenage mutant, suddenly sprouted a veiny, grotesque face and deep preternatural voice. But the moment faded quickly for all of them but the so called mutant in the center of attention.

Anya could feel things shifting. Some minute, some huge. But there was something shifting inside her as well. She wondered if this was the way her clients felt when she granted their wishes and wondered why she would feel it if this were Rogue's wish. But soon the feeling faded and Anya looked around, slightly dizzy.

"You okay, darlin'?" came a gruff voice from her left. Anya glanced at Logan as his hand brushed away the hair that had fallen over her cheek.

"Yeah," she answered slowly, unsure if she really was okay. But then, a bright sparkle before her caught her eye. On her left hand was the most gorgeous diamond solitaire that she'd ever seen, coupled with a solid gold wedding band. Anya smiled down at the set of rings, until she noticed that underneath her hand rested something even more intriguing. A very rounded stomach that belonged to herself. "What's going on?" she demanded softly, trying to ascertain exactly what had transpired. This was what Rogue had wished for? For Anya to be married and pregnant? Somehow that didn't make sense.

"You won the game," Rogue piped up from her right and Anya's head swung around to stare at the mutant for a moment before her focus took in Jubilee and the board game once again. Oh yes, they'd been playing the game of Life. A large grin spread over her face. She turned back to Logan to find him leaning towards her as his own hand slid over her burgeoning belly. She could see the matching wedding band adorning his hand. She lifted her face and met his lips in a quick kiss. Anya sighed happily.

"I like winning!"


	4. Making The Best Of A Bad Situation

Title: Making The Best Of A Bad Situation

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rating: T for some violent references and one swear word

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. They belong to Joss Whedon. Nor do I own the characters or settings of Dark Angel. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee.

Timeline/ Spoilers: Takes place in the Dark Angel (season 2) timeline and makes the assumption that Anya stayed with the Vengeance demons instead of choosing the Scoobies after Season Six.

Summary: An unusual case arises in the world of Vengeance.

A/N: This was written for the TtH Fic-for-all. Pairing #392 Anya/ Alec (Dark Angel).

Making The Best Of A Bad Situation

"Okay, so run that by me again," Alec muttered, squinting hard at the woman that had appeared on his doorstep that morning. She was quite the looker, with tight fitting slacks and a professional-ish but very stylish white and black checkered blouse. She was blonde, just like he liked. She was female, also as he liked. But she was talking. And that didn't seem to be a good thing. In either of their opinions.

The blonde bit back a frustrated sigh. Why did all the cute ones have to be incredibly dense? "All right, from the top," she barked, her hands in her hips. "You are Alec McDowell, correct?" He nodded. "You are somewhat of a ladies man are you not?" Another nod. "Then I don't see what is so hard to grasp about this."

"Yeah," Alec grimaced, talking slowly. "See, my problem is this. I know who I am. I know what I am. What I don't know is who you are and what you're about. You've given me some cock and bull story about Justice, yet I haven't seen a Sector Cop badge, Seattle PD, license to carry or anything even remotely to do with Justice. So what the hell do you want?"

"I've told you," the blonde growled. "I'm not with that Justice Department. Mine's a little," her eyes darted to the side, a sure sign to Alec that she was fudging something here. "A little more difficult to explain."

"All right," he shrugged. "Tell me about your assignment and I'll tell you why you have no business being here." If he were just an ordinary citizen and not a transgenic killing machine, he might have crossed his fingers for luck. But he wasn't about to indulge in silly superstitions to get him out of a potentially dangerous situation.

"It's simple," the blonde huffed. "There have been complaints registered about your behavior towards a number of women. My superiors dispatched me to investigate the claims and to mete out punishment if necessary. Unfortunately, there is substantive evidence in place for each and every one of the complaints made. But the punishment is different for each complaint."

"Complaint," Alec shook his head. "What kind of complaints?" He was starting to get just the tiniest bit flustered and that was not a good thing. "And from whom? We're talking about women?"

"Yes," the blonde agreed, seemingly happy that he was catching on at last. "Many, many women."

"Like who?" Alec demanded. He couldn't imagine that any of the women he knew had reason to complain. Well, aside from one or two very obvious exceptions. But damn, had the blonde just pulled a list from her pocket? She had!

"Women like Little Suki and Marianne, Lux, who was a delight to talk to, I might add," the blonde drawled, her perfectly manicured nail trailing down a very long list. "She's very inventive I've noticed. And we had a good talk about orgasms. And then there was Candy, Asha, Mindy, Shoshannah, Kiana, Trini, J.J., Sofia, Chelsea, Brietta, Max" she paused to take a breath, but Alec certainly got the idea as he caught the last name she'd uttered.

"Wait!" he held up a hand to forestall the next round of name the ex girlfriend's, play toys, one night stands and other women in his life. The blonde glanced up from the list. "Max is in on this? Max Gueverra?" The blonde consulted her list.

"Yes," she nodded. "That's right. She's one of a long list, though her complaint seems to have pre-dated the others.

Alec felt the grin spreading over his face. Now he knew what this was all about. Max was obviously trying in some illogical female way trying to punish him for some imagined crime or other. He'd just never understand the way she thought. And honestly, as nuts as she could get, did he really want to? "Okay, so what is it you're supposed to do again?" His mind was busy trying to think of way's to turn this little prank back against his female nemesis.

"Well, as I said," the blonde continued, waving the list around importantly, "we aren't really equipped to deal with a situation like this. After much discussion, my superiors decided that I would present the list of young ladies to you, without expounding on the punishments. You can choose one from among them and that will suffice as your punishment. I mean, I can't quite resurrect you to punish you over and over."

"Wait," Alec smirked. "Resurrect? Someone wanted me dead?"

"That was the number one request," the blonde tittered. "That you would drop dead. Though that's the most boring punishment I've ever had. And let me tell you, after over a thousand years of Vengeance, I've seen a lot."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Alec answered, slightly tongue in cheek. He was wondering where the hell Max had dug this chick up. She was obviously not playing with a full deck of cards. But again, his mind skipped back to making a plan to have this whole thing blow up in Max's face. Whatever this plan of hers was. Alec supposed he better figure that out before he proceeded. And there was no better way of getting information out of a woman than a little flattery.

With practiced ease, he moved in closer to the blonde, lowering his voice to a husky timber." I don't suppose there's any way that you could be my punishment, is there? God knows I need a good… spanking."

But instead of having to contend with a feminine puddle of goo like he expected, Alec found himself being appraised, much like a hunk of top sirloin steak. The blonde was nodding, her eyes cold and calculating.

"That's doable," she agreed. "Max wasn't very specific with her punishment, but she did mention something about me and you." She paused and tilted her head back even further. "Is that your choice then? You choose Max's punishment?"

Alec hesitated a moment. Perhaps it was best to just get this over with. At least he was in the privacy of his own apartment. And he knew that this woman wasn't a fellow transgenic. So whatever she tried, if he didn't like it, he could easily counter it. "All right," he caved. "I choose Max's punishment."

And then Alec realized that he couldn't be more wrong in his life. Because suddenly, where there had been a lovely curvaceous blonde, was now an anomaly of the freakiest kind. He gulped heavily as her voice rasped out "done!"

"Who dat Boo?" Original Cindy McEachin asked of her best friend, roommate and co-worker, Max Gueverra. At present, the young woman was staring across the locker area of their common employment, Jam Pony. Original Cindy had followed her gaze and was puzzled to see that Max had been staring at pretty boy Alec and another scrumptious young lady that seemed vaguely familiar.

"Her name is Anya, I think," Max answered, scrunching her nose up in distaste. She turned to her friend. "She came up to me at Crash the other night, asking if I knew Alec."

"The one that kept on and on about her boy that left her at the altar?" OC demanded. Max nodded and OC let out a heartfelt sigh. "Shame she didn't listen to you and back off da boy. More shame that she not playin' for the home team. She damn fine."

Max smiled as her friend once again made clear her most definite preference for the ladies. "Actually, she was more interested in what I'd do to Alec if I could, for all the crap he's pulled."

"And what'd you tell her?" Cindy smiled. She knew that Max wasn't all that imaginative when it came to stuff like that. She was much too direct. And if Cindy remembered correctly, and she knew she did, Max had already landed her revenge on a certain sensitive portion of Alec's anatomy.

"That I'd already taken care of the matter," Max shrugged, but inwardly relished the memory of having done exactly that. She'd really taken care of the pesky problem of Alec. But he'd deserved it, for calling her a bitch.

"But?"

"But she just wouldn't give up," Max half-shrugged. "I think I said something about siccing her on Alec. I mean, geez, she talks just as much as he does." Both women smiled as they heard the woman, Anya's strident voice ring out across the room.

"And then can you imagine, after I was all dressed, he just walked out on me! I mean, I had to go out and tell all of his drunken relatives that there wasn't going to be a wedding after all. And I had to return all those lovely gifts. Although I didn't mind returning the ugly ones. But I should have had some compensation for putting up with all that. And for losing my orgasm partner!"

Max and Original Cindy exchanged glances and smiled at one another.

"So some nice little fairy came along and granted yo wish, huh?" Cindy teased her friend.

Max took in the slightly ill look of her nemesis. He was squeezing his eyes tightly shut, trying to tune out the incessant drone of the blonde beside him. "Yup," she grinned. "They're a match made in hell!"


	5. From One Exteme

Title: From One Extreme

Author: Restive Nature (aka bavite)

Rating: PG-13 (at most)

Pairing: Gunn/ Legolas

Disclaimer: All things Angel belong to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. All things Lord of the Rings belong to Tolkien.

Timeline: After Gunn has joined the crew, so about mid-season Two of Angel. And just in general for LotR. We'll just say post movies.

Summary: Gunn has never played nice with others, so why would anyone ask him to play babysitter to an out of dimensioner?

A/N- This fiction was also written for the TtH's fic-for-all. This pairing is #1350 Gunn/ Legolas.

From One Extreme

"Er, what can I do for you now?" Wesley straightened up from the desk of the main lobby of the Hyperion, addressing their unexpected guest. The blonde man, er, Elf, smiled winningly at the English native and gestured to the books.

"Prithee, I wondered if you have perchance divined the proper method yet with which to return my person to the lands from whence I came?"

The question was asked earnestly, but it took a moment for the other occupant of the room to understand it. He broke in before Wesley could answer. "Damn! Are all you uppity tea drinkers starched in the drawers? Why couldn't you just say 'Yo! Find a way home for me yet?'"

The newcomer, Legolas by name and Wesley exchanged an amused glance. Legolas bowed his head slightly. "My apologies Master Charles Gunn. I must admit that I am astonished by my own veracity for verbosity while I am still in such awe over the world I find myself in. If it is your preference for the sweet sounds of silence, I shall endeavor myself to hasten to the quietude that must have oft befallen you before my untimely arrival."

There was another puzzled look on the black man's face and with resigned acceptance; he turned to Wesley for translation, which the Englishman gave readily. "He's surprised himself that he's talking so much and if you like, he'll be quiet now." Gunn sighed and rolled his eyes.

How he dearly wished that Cordelia and Angel would come back. Well, maybe not Angel. Being a creature of the night, he seemed to freak this Legolas dude out and that made the pointy eared wonder talk even more, to cover his nervousness. And it wasn't like Cordy was any better. But at least she was as clueless as he was when Leg-man spoke. But no, the pair of them was still at Caritas, trying to discover how a portal had opened on the Host's stage, dropping Legolas through it.

After a few minutes of watching the clock ticking and listening to the pages of Wesley's old tome rustling, Gunn decided to take action. "I'm outta here man," he spoke suddenly, causing both Wesley and Legolas to glance up in surprise. He shouldn't have been surprised when Legolas stood up quickly.

"Do you go to… patrol?" he asked eagerly, panting slightly. He really reminded Gunn of and overeager puppy, or child. Gunn snorted and gestured to the doors that led to the Hyperion's garden.

"You think we're goin' to catch anything in broad daylight?" he scoffed. Legolas simply looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps we'll stumble onto one of the many monsters from the stories that Master Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was kind enough as to regale me with," Legolas grinned gleefully. He fingered the daggers at his side in an eerily menacing way. And while Gunn wasn't this outlander's biggest fan, he sure had to admire the way this dude handled his weapons.

And then there was Wesley's pleading look. As much as he enjoyed having Legolas' presence around him, it was hindering his research, especially since Wesley was the only one that Legolas ever seemed to ask questions of. He disliked the sense of Angel, which the broody Vampire was alarmingly sensitive to. It was not proper for Legolas, in the Elf's opinion to approach Cordelia, as she was an unmarried, unchaperoned young lady. And Legolas could very well sense Gunn's irritation with him. But apparently, the chance to hunt was too great for him to pass up.

Gunn sighed and spread his arms wide. "Why not?" he demanded in a sulky tone. "It'll be dark by the time we get anywhere, since pretty boy there refuses to ride in the love machine."

He had to wait a few minutes while Wesley properly armed Legolas, with stakes and holy water, all the while answering more questions. The uppermost on Legolas' mind as to how it was possible that Gunn's vee-hick-all was able to produce the euphoria of love when it was a dreadful noisy, polluting machine. (A thing most feared apparently, in Legolas' world.) Gunn could hear the barely controlled laughter in Wes' voice as he explained the slang.

Several hours later, the sun had set and Gunn and Legolas had arrived back at Gunn's neighborhood. He hadn't seen any of his crew as yet and was really wishing that he had. Legolas would have been easier to take if there were more people to distract him, rather than just Gunn. And then there was the chance that one of his kids would have shot first and asked questions later. A slim hope, but buried in his psyche nonetheless.

"And so I said to my dear friend Gimli," Legolas continued blathering on. "I have told you of my dear friend Gimli, have I not. The dwarf that-!"

"Yeah! Gimli! I got it," Gunn almost snarled. "The dwarf dude in love with the Elf Queen."

"Exactly," Legolas preened, as if he were entirely responsible for the acuity of Gunn's memory. He was about to go on, but went silent and stiffened in a way that Gunn had quickly understood to mean that there were hostiles in the area. In silent communication, Legolas gestured to the left and Gunn swung his head that way, loosening a stake from where he'd stuffed it into his pants. Listening, he could just make out the sounds of three, possibly more vamps heading their way.

He and Legolas rolled into action. Even in the midst of their short battle against four Vamps, he took just the tiniest second to admire the way the stakes rolled and danced through the Elf's nimble fingers. Almost like they were an extension of his own self. When the Vamps were dust, Gunn straightened up and replaced the stake in the back pocket of his jeans. He turned to see Legolas staring down at the dust settling on the grass covered grave.

"Yea, I have vanquished thee, foul creature of the night, though-!" he began.

"Dude!" Gunn interrupted. "Can you give it a rest? Quit with the freakin' theeing and thouing. The Vamp's gone. No need to eulogize it." Gunn was startled and more than slightly upset that a three syllable word had slipped through his lips so unintentionally. This pointy eared freak was starting to rub off on him and by the way Legolas was grinning, the bugger knew it.

"For you Master Charles Gunn, I will," he answered smartly. Gunn rolled his eyes and stalked away. Legolas could hear him muttering under his breath.

"Anyone else would just say okay or yeah or yes sir. But the pointy eared freak's always gotta be different!"

Legolas took one slight moment to finger his ears. Why did the race of man always have to make that distinction? After all, it wasn't his fault that the Valar had graced their firstborn's with such elegant appendages. And then the moment was forgotten as he took off after Gunn.

"Gunn! Duck!"

To both their gratification, Gunn did exactly that. And the Vampire that was attempting a running side-tackle of the black man managed to sail over the suddenly supine figure. Only to be immediately confronted by the angered Elf as Legolas straddled the creature, ramming the stake into the undead heart. But in his concern for Gunn and any more Vampires heading their way, Legolas didn't quite get the stake clear in time and it vanished into dust along with the creature.

But despite the loss of the one weapon, Legolas was not an Elf to give up easily. This was why he shed the coat Wesley had given him to wear and unslung his bow that was worn cross ways over his torso. An arrow was to hand before Gunn could even blink. Legolas scanned the area easily before letting an arrow fly. Gunn watched with dry-mouthed awe as it hit a target he could barely even see the outline too.

"Ears! You rock!" he cheered the outlander on. Legolas smiled, having heard this slang before and took it to mean he had done well. Perhaps this form of verbal expression wasn't so difficult after all. Not that he would ever be comfortable using it himself. But something did come to mind. There was one last Vampire in their immediate vicinity and one last chance to impress the black man that Legolas had found himself taking a liking to.

"Well, well, well," Legolas drawled, taking Gunn's attention to the last creeping creature of the night. The Vampire froze, realizing that the attention had finally come his way. "We've got ourselves quite a situation here. You Vampire. Me Elf. Now, we all know that you as a creature of the night have been gifted with unnatural speed. Speed that no mortal has the chance to equal."

The Vampire looked as if it were about to speak up with some sort of tidbit rebutting what Legolas had just said, but the Elf never gave it a chance.

"But obviously you must have realized that I am no mere mortal," Legolas continued. "And therefore, I have become an unknown quantity. Is your speed greater than mine? Is your dexterity enough to equal the deadly accuracy of my hand and eyes?"

Gunn wrinkled his forehead. What on earth was Legolas playing at? He eased his stake into his hand, wondering if he could get the drop on the Vamp while Legolas' verbal diarrhea kept it occupied.

"So you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?" Legolas finally spat out. The Vamp looked incredulously from Legolas to Gunn. The black man, just as stunned, could only stare back at the Vamp. The undead creature raised one eyebrow, as if to ask 'is this jerk for real?' But before Gunn could even shake his head in resignation, Legolas had taken advantage of the Vamp's distraction and had dusted him through the heart with his arrow, straight and true.

Gunn's mouth gaped open a few times, imitating a fish. Legolas just looked on merrily. "Well Master Charles Gunn?" he asked expectantly. "Doth that volley of words meet with your down to earth ways approval, or shall I endeavor to put more truculence in my note of censure?" This time Gunn couldn't help it. He laughed. The twinkle in Legolas' eyes soon spread to the black man's and they were both laughing as if the sound were exploding from their very inner core.

"From one extreme to another," Gunn gasped. "Damn Ears! You a funny guy."

"Well, I do try my best," Legolas answered with a straight face. Gunn finally straightened up and gestured for them to keep walking.

"Just do me one favor, okay Ears?"

"And what pray tell, might that be?" Legolas asked politely.

"Remind me to get Angel some new movies to watch," Gun chuckled, knowing exactly where Legolas' movie quote had come from.

"Done!"

A/N3- For anyone who doesn't know, the quote** "**You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?" was spoken by Harry Callahan in the movie "Dirty Harry". (Warner Brothers 1971).


	6. Distraction

Title: Distraction

Author: Restive Nature (aka bavite)

Rating: PG-13 (at most)

Pairing: Andrew/ Legolas

Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. All things Lord of the Rings belong to Tolkien. I also want to mention that I don't ownthe rights to any of the Star Trek franchises. Those are Rodenberry's properties. (Or whomever they fall to now that he has passed on.)

Timeline: After the movies for LotR. And during season 7 for Buffy. You know, when Andrew was at his height of annoying!

Summary: Legolas finds a way to deal with the intrepid questioner in the form of Andrew Wells.

A/N1- This fiction is a loose continuation of From One Extreme… Legolas goes portal hopping again.

A/N2- This fiction was also written for the TtH's fic-for-all. This pairing is #1231 Andrew/ Legolas.

Distraction

Legolas sighed deeply and heartily as he tried to relax. He was seated on a very bright, stuffed piece of furniture. He believed, if he remembered correctly, that it was termed a 'couch'. At least that's what Master Charles Gunn had called it. Master Wesley Wyndham-Pryce had called it a 'sofa'. But whatever he preferred to call it, it was comfortable. What was not comfortable however was the incessant prattle that came from the annoying insect like creature in the form of a young man going by the name of Andrew Wells.

Legolas now understood why his own person had annoyed poor Master Gunn those many years ago. And yet, the young man had become his friend. Legolas however, just didn't think that was going to be possible in this case. This Andrew had the most high-pitched whiny voice that Legolas had ever believed he had heard. And that included the time that the Hobbits were told that their food was being rationed. One would not have believed the pitch that Pippin had finally ascended to during that heated debate.

It might not have been so bad, but Legolas felt slightly deserted. Not that he blamed any of the other occupants of the house. The owner, Buffy, was outside training some recruits. She had been quite a surprise for Legolas. Upon landing in her living room, through another accursed portal (he was really going to have to figure out why they kept attracting him!) he'd introduced himself. Apparently, something that Cordy had said once to Willow kept the young blonde woman from killing him immediately. When they learned that Legolas had once been a guest of the Hyperion and was no big fan of Angel, he'd been quickly accepted by almost all in the group. And since he was privy to the information of Angel being a Vampire, he quickly learned of Buffy's status as the Vampire Slayer. It as an intriguing notion to Legolas, who was not used to female warriors, especially of her caliber.

The other occupants of the house were similarly busy. Dawn, Buffy's younger sister was attending her academic lessons at the 'school' building. The young man Xander was doing some reconstruction around the house. Legolas had offered to help, but Xander didn't seem too keen on the extra shadow that had popped up in the form of Andrew. Apparently the young man was more hindrance than help. And lastly, Rupert Giles, their father figure and the young witch, Willow, were conferencing with Master Wesley as to how to reverse the portal, to send Legolas home.

That was one comfort for the Elf. He'd spent nearly three weeks in Los Angeles the first time he'd come to this world. He didn't think his immortal patience would endure this time around. And so, with Master Wesley's help, home was but hours away.

"Did you get to watch any television while you were here the first time?" Andrew prattled on, deftly manipulating the remote control for the television. "Do you know what television is? I can't imagine that Angel would have one. He's so Goth, you know. Ah, the eternal Vam-pyre."

Legolas sighed again and quickly interrupted what he knew would turn into a soliloquy of trite phrasing. "Yes Andrew. I had the chance to become acquainted with television. Thank you for asking."

"Oh," Andrew seemed slightly startled. "Well, you know, maybe we could watch Star Trek: Enterprise. That wasn't on the first time you came. I bet you would like it. Ah, Captain Archer. Most especially since you've become an explorer of the universe yourself. And I bet you'd like the Vulcans. They have pointy ears, just like you do. Hey, I wonder if…"

Legolas tuned the young man's chatter out right then. His fingers stole up lightly to stroke at the appendage just mentioned by the young obsessed man. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He turned to Andrew, a wild look in his eyes.

"Aaii! Why had I not noticed before?" he cried out. Andrew looked suitably startled. Legolas tried to hold back his shudder as he reached out to finger Andrew's rounded ear. "Your ears! They are round."

"W-well, of c-course they are," Andrew stuttered, taken aback. "Everyone's ears are rounded."

"But that is not so," Legolas protested. "In the land of my birth, everyone's ears are pointed." This was entirely true. There were only Elves in the Woodland Realms of Mirkwood, once called Greenwood the Great. But Legolas didn't care to mention that in other lands, the race of Dwarves and of Men were round eared as well. Andrew just didn't need to know that.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Andrew deflated a little.

"Why do you suppose that is?" Legolas demanded gently. "What makes your ears that way? Do you hear better with your ears in that shape? Or do they perhaps make your head more pleasing to the eye?"

"W-well, I don't know," Andrew stammered again. He seemed extremely pleased that the reluctant Elf was finally paying attention to him. The expectant look in Legolas' eyes spurred him to action. "I s-suppose I could look it up," he suggested hesitantly.

"Would you?" Legolas asked as breathlessly as he could manage.

"Of course!" Andrew fairly leapt to the task as he raced up to the room he had been assigned in Buffy's house. His mind was reeling with ways to access that information. There were books of course. And the internet. But maybe Legolas would be impressed if he could find a spell to some knowledge demon. Andrew was nearly wetting himself by the time he reached the top of the stairs.

Legolas let his eyes drift shut as quiet finally reigned in the house. Until there came the sound of slow, almost mocking clapping. He peered one eye open to see Xander and Buffy standing in the entrance to the living room. Xander was clapping while Buffy gave him a strange gesture. She held her fist before her with the thumb sticking straight up in the air. By the look on her face, Legolas assumed that he'd done something well.

"Well," Xander grinned as he quit clapping to take a seat. "I give an A+ in the technique of distraction. What do you think Buff?"

"Could have geeked the computer nerd a little more," she shrugged, folding her arms across her body as she contemplated the idea. "But since you don't have that much cultural reference, I will also award you an A, just for sheer effort and effectiveness alone."

Legolas grinned back at the duo. Having heard Dawn and Buffy speaking of these letter grading systems earlier, knew that he had indeed done well in his handling of Andrew.

"And he didn't even have to doff the shirt," Xander continued gleefully. Legolas' grin turned instantly to a puzzled frown.

"How would removing my tunic have distracted Andrew?" he inquired, not missing the warning look that Buffy was sternly endowing on the laughing carpenter.

"Ooh," Buffy exclaimed, glancing up at the clock on the mantle. "Time to pick up Dawn." She turned to Legolas. "She and I are going to grab a bite to eat and then do an early patrol like I promised her. Do you want to come with? It'd make me feel better if I had an extra set of eyes watching over her."

Ever the gallant sort of Elf, Legolas agreed at once. Never mind that patrolling was quickly his favorite thing in this world to do. And never mind that he was always appreciative of Buffy's and her friend's attempts to include him. And never mind that listening to Dawn attempt to explain a thing to him was funnier than watching Gimli moon over Lady Galadriel. And even as Legolas accepted some weapons from the chest that Xander had opened, he never noticed that Buffy had earned an A+ in distraction herself.


	7. What's That Do?

Title: What's That Do?

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Buffy The Vampire Slayer or It. They belong respectively to Whedon and Stephen King.

Genre: Crossover of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and It.

Type: Stand Alone

Timeline/ Spoilers: Season Two, Ep "Innocence" for Buffy and none really for It, aside from the fact that I kind of went with the television representation of things.

Summary: Xander managed to overcome his fear of clowns, but what about killer clowns that transform into spiders?

A/N: This is for the TtH Fic-for All. Pairing # 2050 Xander/ It

What's That Do?

Xander hated this dream. He knew it. He remembered it. He hated it with a passion. He glanced down at himself, expecting to see the younger version of himself that he always was when he had this dream. But surprisingly enough, he was still teen Xan-man. At least he was dressed. Because boy, if he had to confront this thing naked… That was just badness all around.

And soon enough, the fair playground that he was sitting on began to darken as the sun disappeared. The wind picked up and Xander stood up. He was resigned to what would happen. And just seconds before the tap on his shoulder that always signaled the nightmare to begin, Xander spun around.

There was surprise on the thing's face, but only for a moment. "Xander," the thing hissed, somehow sounding like a snake, even though Xander knew it wasn't. It just had this hissing, menacing thing going on.

"Pennywise," Xander returned, picking the creature's name from the recesses of his brain. He could almost believe that he sounded as suave as Bond, of the James kind. Almost but for the clicking of one scared knee against the other.

"You've grown Xander," the clown leered at the young man. There was an evil glint in his eyes. "But all the more for me to eat."

"Eat?" Xander demanded, all of a sudden incredulous. "What is it with things trying to eat me? First you and then giant preying Mantis lady and now you? When do I ever get a break?"

"You should know better by now Xander," Pennywise chuckled. The clown reached out with one gloved hand and poked at Xander's middle. "All those doughnuts have been sweetening you up." But apparently he'd said just the wrong thing as Xander smacked his hand away.

"Hands of the fat roll bub!" Xander stood up straighter. Somehow, he wasn't afraid of this beast anymore. After all, he'd already stood up to his clown fear a year ago, and triumphed. "You don't scare me you big… big Nazi Clown Jerk!" He crossed his arms over his chest, just waiting for the thing to disappear, once and for all. But after another moment of surprise on the clown's face, a feral grin came to replace it.

"Well if clowns don't scare you anymore, maybe this will?"

"Oh look," Willow cooed, gesturing quickly to Buffy. The petite blonde Slayer hurried into the living room with the popcorn she'd gone to get. It was cheesy horror movie night and they were only two videos into the evening. And yet Xander hadn't been able to resist the sleep fairy.

"What is it Wills?" she asked quietly as she took her seat on the sofa. Willow pointed at where Xander had piled himself onto the floor amid pillows and junk food.

"He's dreaming," Willow giggled. Buffy smiled in return.

"Good dream or bad dream?"

"Don't know," Willow shrugged, accepting the bowl of popcorn. "He was frowning, and then he smiled, then he frowned again. Oh look, now he's grinning."

Buffy glanced back and forth between her two best friends, and then shook her head. "Wills, you observe way too much."

Xander could feel his eyes getting almost as big as saucers as the clown disappeared to become a gigantic, humungous, larger than should be legally possible… spider.

But wait! Did he have a spider fear? He didn't think so. But looking at this spider, he knew he could rapidly develop one.

"So Xander," Pennywise hissed once more at him. "What are you going to do, you scared scrumptious little boy?"

Well, first he was going to choke on his own saliva. He did that very well. Then he was going to laugh hysterically as his brain played out several vivid fantasies of dying at the pincers of this spider demon. And then he was going to wonder why he was also thinking about those stupid bracelet's he'd seen on some kids with the letters WWJD on them. Oh, he knew perfectly well what the letters stood for. What Would Jesus Do? Well, as he and Willow liked to privately joke, since Buffy was their savior, maybe they should have bracelets that said WWBD?

But then it occurred to him. What _would_ Buffy do? Well, for one, she'd slay the big bad spider. And even as he thought it, he saw the perfect solution. In seconds, he'd lifted open the crate that had appeared as if by magic at his feet.

The bazooka weighed barely anything to him, he was just so glad to see it. He carefully sighted in on the head of the spider and through the scope; he could see the poisonous fangs moving up and down as the words filtered to his ears.

"What's that do?"

"Oh, he's smiling again," Willow cooed once more. She ignored the drool running down her friends face, deciding that despite the ick factor, it was kind of cute.

"Oh shh!" Buffy shushed her, both girls completely ignoring the video in favor of getting teasing material on their Xander shaped friend. "I think he's going to say something." And sure enough he did.

"Big gun make loud noise," he mumbled in his sleep. "Make spidey go bye bye!"

The two girls exchanged amused glances as the still sleeping Xander smacked his lips contentedly. They giggled as once more Xander rolled over; content in his own fantasy world, that once again, the day was saved.


	8. Payback

Title: Payback

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Buffy The Vampire Slayer or the novel It. They belong respectively to Whedon and Stephen King.

Genre: Crossover of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and It

Type: Stand Alone

Timeline/ Spoilers: Season Seven, Ep. "Selfless" for Buffy and none for It.

Summary: It's looking for a little familial revenge.

A/N: This is for the TtH Fic-for All. Pairing # 2049 Anya/ It

Payback

Anya moved tiredly towards the front door of her new crappy little apartment. It wasn't as nice as the one she'd had with Xander. But for now, it would do. At least she still had her job at the Magic Box. Her Vengeance gig had fallen through after that stunt with the frat house. And Hallie dying. She really didn't want to think about it.

But as she opened the door, she realized that she was just going to have to.

"Ah, Pennywise," she greeted in overly bright tones, even as she swore mentally. She should have known that this would happen. The large spider demon hissed and spat at her. Luckily, even though Anya was no longer in the demon fold, she could still understand it.

"No, I didn't," she argued. The large spider hissed again, this time, waving an angry pincer.

"Look!" Anya placed her hands on her hips. "I called in a favor from your cousin. He came and he did the job. It wasn't my fault that he was stupid enough to stick around this dimension!" Pennywise snapped something out.

"As if!" Anya screeched, her hands clenched into fists. "And they are so not my friends! I don't even like them."

Pennywise went on a rather long rant that had Anya rolling her eyes.

"Fine!" she shouted. "You want to know? It was the Slayer! Take it up with her. 1630 Revello Drive!" And with one last angry remark, Pennywise backed out the door. Anya leaned out of her doorway, shaking her fist.

"Same to you, you jerk!"

She quickly ducked back inside and slammed her door shut. Her eyes darted around the apartment, searching for where she left the cordless phone. If she didn't give Buffy a heads up on this one, the Slayer would so kick her ass.


	9. A Piece Of Advice

Title: A Piece Of Advice  
Author: Restive Nature (aka bavite)  
Rating: PG-13  
Type: Crossover of BtVS and DA.  
Status: Stand Alone, Complete.  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or settings... at all!  
Timeline: Takes place in the DA second season timeline, but makes the assumption that Anya remained a Vengeance demon in Season Six and Seven. And since playing with portals is always so amusing, we won't! Xander is about mid-thirties in this fiction.

Summary: Man to man, one word of advice. Run!

A/N- This fiction is a continuation of "Making The Best of a Bad Situation".

A/N2- This fiction is dedicated to napaisti since she just had to mention this pairing and making me go and think of the perfect first line! This one's for you honey!

A/N2- This fiction is part of the TtH fic-for-all. Pairing #2236 Xander/ Alec.

A Piece Of Advice

"So has she asked you for orgasms yet?" the one eyed man asked Alec quite casually. But it was a moment for anything but casual to Alec. He severely choked on the drink he'd just taken a sip of and then grimaced. Whiskey was certainly not meant to be experienced through the nose. Alec McDowell always thought of himself as a person that nothing could surprise. Someone who could roll with any punch aimed towards him. But this guy? He'd done the impossible and caught him off guard.

He eyed the older man, who'd introduced himself as Xander Harris. He'd recognized the name immediately. How could he not? He'd been hearing it every other minute or so for the last two days from the lips of one Anyanka Jenkins. The freak woman who'd attached herself to his side. In fact, it had taken all of Alec's skill as an ex-Manticore operative to evade her this evening.

"I'll take that as a yes," Xander chuckled, swirling the last drops of his own drink in the glass before him. Alec stared at him warily. From what he'd understood of Anya's ranting, she and Xander had been over for a long time. He'd made the mistake early on of telling her to get over it. It was something he'd never say to another female as long as he lived. But still, given the way Anya went on about Xander, he could see that she was still hung up on the guy. Or the presents, Alec wasn't quite sure which. Alec just didn't know if Xander was still hung up on her.

"Well," he hedged, not quite sure what to say.

"It's okay," Xander assured him quickly. "Anya and I were over a long time ago. And I think we're probably better off for it." Alec wasn't so sure, especially if Anya were still making other people miserable about it, namely him.And this Xander character had been eager enough to ask about Anya when they'd bumped into each other this morning.

It had started out simple enough, Alec realized. He'd woken up and there was Anya, making breakfast in his apartment. He'd only found one way to shut her up, so to speak. And he'd busily employed that method all night. And with a huge smile on her face, she'd hastily told him that all men were scum, but she'd made him breakfast anyway. So there was some compensation. They'd eaten and Alec had wondered how he was going to get away from her. But then, her pager had gone off and she'd grabbed her coat, citing that her duty awaited and she'd hopefully meet up with him later.

So Alec had been in a much better mood, making the comment that he'd better head for work as well. He'd left his home, thinking about how he could get the locks changed while she was gone. And maybe a new cell phone as well. And just as he'd thought that, the blasted thing rang. And it was Anya, calling to tell him of the time that one Xander Harris had dared put his job before her and her sexual needs.

And it didn't end there. She called about every fifteen minutes while she traveled to wherever it was that her job took her. And it was during one of these phone calls, when Alec was assuring her that no, he'd never get tired of giving her orgasms and that yes, he was quite the energizer bunny, whatever the hell that was, that he'd bumped into an older gentleman. Alec barely noticed him other than to quickly apologize. But Anya's strident voice rang out and Alec saw the man's eye, the one not covered by a black eye patch go wide as he mouthed the name _'Anya'_.

Alec had quickly made his excuses to Anya and thankfully, she'd arrived to work and had to go as well. Alec didn't even want to know about the screaming he heard in the background. He'd put the phone in his pocket and gently asked the guy if he knew Anya Jenkins. Turned out he did. Turned out he was THE Xander Harris. And it turned out that he didn't mind commiserating with Alec one bit.

Alec gestured to the bartender to have their glasses refilled. With a smile Marko did just that. Xander smiled his appreciation, rolling the cool glass between callused fingers. The marks of his trade, carpentry, were visibly upon him still after all this time. It was what had brought him to Seattle. Or so he'd told Alec. The young transgenic male, good at ferreting out secrets, had a feeling there was more to the story. But at the moment, he didn't care. He just wanted to save his own hide. So how was he going to tell this nice guy, that had bought half the rounds they'd drunk, that he was bonking his ex-fiancée?

"Well I-" Alec began again. But he was quickly interrupted, once again by that strident, outraged voice. He groaned, not bothering to hide it.

"Alexander Lavelle Harris!" Anya yelled from across the bar, standing in the doorway. "What are you doing with my orgasm friend? Leave him alone." Alec cringed and could see Xander doing the same beside him. Although Alec wasn't sure if it was Anya's bluntness or her use of the guy's full name that hit hardest. Honestly, Lavelle? Sounded kind of fruity to Alec.

But somehow, Xander got up the nerve to swing around on his barstool to confront the blonde demon of a woman. "Oh geez! Give it a rest Ahn. I'm not breaking him."

"No," she agreed with a pout as she started towards them. "But you could be contaminating him with all your girly girl screaming genes."

"I don't scream like a girl," he argued, then glanced down at his drink. "I simply distract attackers with a few well placed, high-pitched vocal emanations." Alec snorted at that.

"Girly girl screams!" Anya asserted once more. Alec was starting to think that this could be a very entertaining evening, if only Anya would leave him out of it. The other patrons of the bar were already enjoying things.

"Jesus Ahn," Xander groaned. "It's been twenty years. Could you at least contemplate getting over it?" Alec screwed his eyes shut and cringed once more. He knew the reaction to this.

"Get over it?" her screech climbed several octaves at once. "How am I supposed to get over it when I've got dem-oh, I mean friends calling me from across the world, still, to ask me about why I didn't get married!"

"Yeah," Xander snarled back, "well at least your family was sober enough to remember that you were supposed to be married." Alec pondered that for only a moment. He'd heard enough complaints about the Harris family as well, about the trouble they had caused Anya. But he'd assumed that she'd been exaggerating their drunken stupors. Maybe she wasn't exaggerating so much if Xander was saying it as well.

"What are you doing here then Xander, if you're not trying to take away Alec?" Anya demanded. But she didn't bother to wait for his reply. "I knew it. You just can't let me be happy. I was winning. I had money, I had a fiancé, and I was making friends. Not just my friends. Bu I was friends with all your little pals and you just couldn't stand it. Well I'm not going to let you take that away again Xander!"

"Shut up Anya," Xander threw back. "I'm in Seattle on business okay? And… and to see my own girlfriend. In fact, there she is right now! Jessica, honey bunny!" He yelled out while wildly waving at a newcomer at the bar door. Before anyone else could get a word out, he rushed off to greet the woman. Alec caught a glimpse of dark hair, but that was it.

But apparently Anya saw more, because she began to smirk. "Who does he think he's kidding?" she snorted. And then Alec understood as Xander pulled back and was confronted with a snarling visage very familiar to Alec. Anya turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "Play along, okay?" Alec nodded his assent gleefully. Oh, he couldn't wait to see how this unfolded.

The couple at the door spoke quietly for a moment and then Xander began to tug the young woman along behind him. A very reluctant, young woman. Once he reached Alec and Anya, he pulled the woman, who looked distinctively uncomfortable to his side and wrapped an arm about his waist. Alec winced in sympathy. If Xander wasn't careful, he was going to lose that arm.

"Honey bunny," Xander cooed, "this is Anya and her boyfriend Alec." He turned to the reluctant couple and gestured to the young woman. "Guys, this is Jessica, my girlfriend."

Alec simply reached out his hand to grasp "Jessica's" "It's so nice to meet you, _Jessica_."

But Jessica wasn't about to have any of it. "What the hell are you playing at Alec? If this is another one of your stupid ass stunts, I will kick your ass!"

Anya let out a peal of laughter as Xander eyed them all warily. His arm dropped from Jessica's waist. He gestured back and forth between them all. "Wait! You guys know each other?"

"They work with each other, you moron!" Anya barked out between laughs. "In fact, Max is one of the reasons that I'm here. I was supposed to punish him on her orders."

"Wait," Max interrupted. "That's why you've been hanging around him? Because you thought I told you to?"

"Well didn't you?" Anya demanded of the puzzled woman. But then Alec had to jump in.

"Hey, you didn't know anything about this Max?" he asked, slightly wounded that she hadn't been paying as much thought to him as to come up with this elaborate scheme. Max shook her head and Alec was slightly dejected. There wasn't one good thing to come out of this. Well, except for the many, many orgasms.

"Wait!" Xander exploded again, rounding on the transgenic woman. "You're Max?" She nodded. And then he turned to Alec. "And he's Alec?" Max nodded again. Something seemed to dawn on Xander. He turned to Anya with a sickened look.

"What is it with me and demon-women?" he demanded sourly. Anya, who looked to be in form to start ranting again, found that his words cut her short.

"What do you mean?" she demanded suspiciously. Alec and Max exchanged nervous glances. Was Xander somehow onto them and what they were?

"Didn't you ah… notice anything special about Alec?" Xander let out in a whisper, glancing around with nervous eyes. It was almost like he knew someone would be interested in hearing this.

"What do you mean special?" Anya tried to clarify. If anything, her voice had grown louder.

"Like anything… not human about him?" Xander hissed. Alec and Max's eyes grew wide. Yup, Xander was on to them. But he seemed to sense that he'd definitely caught their attention. "Oh don't worry," he tried to assure them. "We won't tell. I know Eyes Only." Max's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know? Logan 'Bionic Boy' Cale?"

Alec burst out laughing at that. Okay, he didn't care if Xander knew about him, well, he did to a small degree, but that slam was just great.

"Hey, you're Xander Harris," Max declared suddenly, looking very relieved. Xander nodded, distracted. Max let out a huge breath of relief. She turned to Alec. "Logan told me I was supposed to meet this contact here tonight. Apparently he can help TC with some certain things."

"Ah," Alec sighed and nodded. Business as usual. But at least it wasn't as bad as they'd thought. He wasn't just some random outsider that knew of the transgenics. Specifically he and Max. But then Xander turned back to Anya. And the blonde was definitely puzzling over something.

"Wait," she gasped. "Do you mean out of the ordinary, like how long he could hold his breath?" Xander nodded. "And his strength and sexual prowess?" Xander nodded again. "And the barcode tattoo on the back of his neck?" she whispered in near despondency. Xander nodded a final time. There was a moment of silence before Anya rounded on Alec. "Men suck!" And with that, the blonde stormed away from the others.

Stunned silence had taken over the trio in the wake of Anya's departure. And then Xander, with an unexpected aplomb, gestured to the barkeep. "A drink, to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Max demanded in surly tones. She still wasn't quite sure what the hell had gone down here.

"I think Anya has just broken up with Alec," Xander grinned.

"And that's a good thing?" she asked warily. Before she'd even finished speaking, both men were nodding vigorously. Max shrugged, glanced once the way Anya had gone and then took a seat, far away from Alec, as in on the other side of the one-eyed man. She had her own suspicions about that Anya chick. But she was going to keep them to herself for the time being.

"Oh, and Alec?" Xander noted quietly as their drinks were served. "One piece of advice." Alec waited for it. "If you ever see Anya coming again? Run!" Max snorted, something between laughter and disapproval. "No, seriously. Run!"

"Amen to that!" Alec agreed fervently. He and Xander clinked their glasses in a wildly strange toast of complete understanding and drank down their whiskey's neat while Max laughed cheerily from her own stool.


End file.
